


In Treatment

by britishmenaredestroyingmylife



Series: Therapy [1]
Category: British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alternate Universe, Come Swallowing, Dirty Talk, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Sex, Sexual Content, Shameless Smut, Smut, Therapist Tom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 21:34:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2125446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/britishmenaredestroyingmylife/pseuds/britishmenaredestroyingmylife





	In Treatment

I entered his office and immediately sat down on the couch, tucking my legs under me as I got comfortable. He was puttering around his desk and finally turned, greeting me with a brilliant smile.

“Hi Stacy, how are you feeling today?”

I fidgeted, staring at the floor. “Okay, Dr. Hiddleston. I guess. I’m just… a bit frustrated.”

“Why is that?” He seated himself in the lounge chair across from me and put his pen in his mouth, thoughtfully. I tried not to stare at the way his tongue ran across his teeth.

“The usual stuff, I guess. Dating life’s not going well. Haven’t gotten laid in awhile.”

“What about that gentlemen you were seeing? What was his name?”

“Jimmy.” I pulled a face. “Bad kisser. I’m not seeing him again.”

“Okay then.” He smirked. “Any other prospects? I know you usually have a few.”

I chewed on my lip. “Actually… well, not really.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “That doesn’t seem like a firm no.”

I shook my head. “I have a crush but it’s not going anywhere. Hence the sexual frustration.”

“Well… look, I know this is a very personal question, Stacy, and you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to, but… do you ever masturbate?”

I squirmed on the couch, pulling my legs in tighter. “Um… yes.”

“Do you find that helps with your frustration?”

I heaved a sigh. “Sometimes.”

"I have to say," he began, "I’ve found many of my female patients to be very reticent about exploring this area of their sexuality, and I always impress upon them its value, not only because you’ll know better what you like so you can communicate that to your partner, but also because it’s a matter of loving yourself enough to take time to feel good. Orgasms are marvelous things, both physically and emotionally; they literally shut the brain down so that you can’t focus on anything but your pleasure. Your body floods with all kinds of feel-good chemicals and… it’s just such a healthy practice."

"I know, doc," I muttered. "And… I can assure you it’s something I do regularly. My problem is that… well, usually I just wind up more frustrated because I know I can’t have him.”

“Ah.” He adjusted his glasses. “So you masturbate thinking of this man? Your… crush?”

“… yes.” _Goddamnit, doc._

“So obviously he’s doing something for you. Why are you shutting him off as an option?”

I stared at him. _He’s so fucking gorgeous._ “Because he’s… not available.”

“Married?”

“No.”

“Seeing someone?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then what is it?”

I cleared my throat and fiddled with my blouse.

“Stacy?”

“It’s you, doc,” I blurted out. A nervous laugh escaped my lips.

His mouth dropped open slightly and he sat back in his chair, running his fingers through his curls. “Oh. I see.”

“Yeah. So…”

“Right. Well. That’s not uncommon, Stacy. It’s called erotic transference.”

“I know what it’s called. I majored in psych, remember?”

He nodded. “Right. So you know.”

“I do.”

“Would you like to talk about it?”

I swallowed. I’d thought about what I’d do if it came to this and I knew that what I’d planned could have serious repercussions… but I didn’t care. It was worth the risk. “Yes.”

“Okay, go ahead. Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“I know it’s your job as my therapist to listen to me,” I began. “And I know that you’re a professional. But you’re very smart, you’re charming, and you’re incredibly attractive. So… sometimes… when I’m feeling particularly frustrated… I think about you.”

His pen scratched against his notepad.

“I think about you kissing me, touching me, then I think about dropping on my knees in front of you and taking you in my mouth…”

He was taking notes, his eyes steadfastly trained on the notepad in front of him, but I could detect the slightest hint of a flush creeping up his neck.

“Or sometimes… I’ll think about you bending me over the desk and taking me from behind. Or even right here on the couch, just fucking the hell out of me, fucking me until I’m sore and can barely move…”

He cleared his throat and crossed his legs as he continued to scribble. “Stacy…” There was a note of warning in his voice.

I ignored him. “I touch myself thinking about you spurting on my breasts, or in my mouth, or in my pussy, and then I come so hard I see stars…”

“ _Stacy_.” His tone was firm but I could see his hand trembling the slightest bit as he continued to write. “Thank you. I get the idea.”

“I think you do.” I smiled wickedly as I stood up. I leaned forward and peeked into his lap; I caught a glimpse of his raging hard-on just before he pulled his notepad back to cover it. “I think you _definitely_ do.”

“Stacy, please. You’re my patient. You always talk about how you majored in psych, so you know anything of a sexual nature between us is absolutely unethical.”

“That’s what makes it so hot,” I murmured. I stepped forward again, only a few inches in front of him now, and braced my hands on his armchair, leaning over to afford him a view straight down my blouse. “Come on, Dr. Hiddleston. Break some rules with me.”

“Stacy…” His voice was a hoarse whisper as his gaze locked on my cleavage and lacy bra.

I dropped to my knees and pried his legs apart. His breathing sped up as I ran my hands over his inner thighs and looked up at him. I grabbed the notebook out of his hand and tossed it on the floor before palming him through his trousers.

He let out a soft moan and bucked his hips forward as I stroked his bulge. I smiled as his eyes rolled and his head dropped backwards. I worked my fingers under the waistband and connected with skin, running my hand back and forth over the silky flesh of his hardened cock. Then, without warning, I stopped.

He jerked his head upward as I withdrew my hand and stood. “You know, maybe you’re right, doc. Wouldn’t want to do anything… _unethical_.” I spun around and plopped back on the couch, a smirk playing on my lips.

His jaw worked as he stared at me. He seemed to be waging an internal battle as his eyes flickered over my blouse, my hips, my legs, then back again to my face.

Then, he got up, locked the door, and walked over so that he was standing right in front of me. He unzipped his fly and unceremoniously pulled out his erection; it bobbed obscenely in my face as he snarled and grasped my hair.

“Suck my dick,” he commanded.

“My goodness, doc,” I murmured. “What happened to ‘unethical’?”

“ _Suck it_.” He thrust into my mouth and I nearly choked as he hit the back of my throat; Jesus, he was fucking huge. I hollowed out my cheeks and started moving my lips up and down his length, bobbing my head as I worked him. His fingers tangled in my hair as he groaned and grunted. I popped off and started jerking him with my hand as I moved down to lap at his balls. I swirled my tongue around each of them, taking as much into my mouth as I could before gripping his base and pursing my lips over his tip. I pushed my head forward and back, pausing every so often to press him to the inside of my cheek and pull him out. He suddenly grabbed my head with both hands, holding me still, and began aggressively fucking my mouth, his hips pistoning forward as he moaned and cried out above me. His pants dropped off completely, settling in a pool around his ankles.

There was a sudden knock on the door and he paused, his breathing labored and his voice strained. " _What?”_

“Dr. Hiddleston?” I heard his secretary’s voice. “Is everything okay in there?" 

“Fine!” 

“Do you need me to – ” 

“We’re _fine_ , Paula!” 

There was silence; finally, we heard her retreating footsteps down the hall. 

“Do you see what you’re doing to me, Stacy?” he growled as he started slamming into my mouth again. “Do you see? If you… if you tell anyone about this… I could lose my license… _oh God_ … but… I don’t fucking… care anymore…” 

I moaned around him and he gritted his teeth. 

“I’ve been wanting… to fuck you… for over a year now…” His grip on my hair was tightening and I could tell he was close. “And now… I’m… going to come… in your mouth… because that’s what you want… isn’t it?” 

I nodded as he continued to thrust forward; I had relaxed my throat muscles and I was pressing my legs together, trying desperately to relieve some of the pressure that had been steadily growing there. I reached a hand down to rub my clit and he stopped. 

“Don’t you _dare_ touch yourself… you’re not going to come… until I let you,” he growled. “Oh, fuck… oh, fuck…”

His strokes were shallower and quicker now, more desperate.

“I’m going to come… oh Christ, I’m going to fucking… _ohhhh, fuck_ ,” he moaned as he bucked forward one last time and lost control. I felt his cock twitch as ropes of come coated the inside of my mouth; I stayed still, waiting until he’d poured every last drop into me, and I swallowed it all. He started to soften as I gently licked him clean. Then, he collapsed onto the couch next to me.

There was a long silence; I could still taste him on my tongue, and I closed my eyes as I leaned back on the couch.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “What did I just do?”

I smirked. “You just shoved your cock down my throat and blew your load in my mouth.”

“I’m ruined.”

I wiped my lips with the back of my hand and rolled my eyes. “No you’re not.”

“Yes. I am.”

“Dr. Hiddleston…”

“Please don’t call me that.” He buried his face in his hands. “Jesus Christ, what have I done?”

I paused as I considered what to call him. “… _Tom_.”

He slowly raised his head and locked eyes with me.

“I’m an adult. I’m a consenting adult. I wanted this, and I’m not going to report you.”

“No?”

“No.” I licked my lips. “But I do kind of feel like you owe me an orgasm.”

A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. “I’m going to have to transfer you to another therapist.”

“As long as we can still fuck, I really don’t care,” I whispered as I leaned in closer. “I haven’t needed therapy for months now. I just kept coming to see you.”

He drew me in and kissed me, a long, soft kiss, his lips parting to gently explore my mouth with his tongue. When he pulled back, I suddenly laughed.

“What?”

“I just realized… I got your cock in my mouth before your tongue.” I shook my head. “This is so fucked up.”

“We both need therapy,” he chuckled. “Now about that orgasm… I’m going to need you to lie back, darling.”

“Sure thing, doc,” I breathed, a smile playing on my lips.


End file.
